For Every Action
by Stuart Johnson
Summary: Third Law: Unto every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction...
1. Questions

The ship was like nothing Betty had ever seen. A charred, city-like ruin floated through the void of space, protected from the outside by what looked like a glass bubble. It was filled with towers, all shadows of their former selves, which spired towards the blackness above with their jagged edges. There was an eerie, empty feel in the air as she approached, but she supposed this was what came with her new promotion.

Betty checked her reflection in the glass cockpit of her new ship. Her red hair had been pulled back into a ponytail, as was her usual style. She wore her pink blouse, which was slightly singed in places from a previous mission. Her green eyes still carried that same determined look, but she could tell something else had crept in. That thing was fear.

She had been promoted in the Galactic Guardians program, and was now sent off on her first solo mission. It was a good feeling, but that mood of emptiness was still there, haunting her. Betty pulled her ship around to a small porthole on the side of this new world, depressurized her cabin, and opened her door. She strode out and into the abandoned city.

The bio-scanner on her wristwatch began to buzz. There was life here, even if the surroundings seemed uninhabitable. She continued deeper into the charred maze of rubble, trying to determine just what kind of place this was. She could see a central spire in the distance, and decided that would be as good a place as ever to begin her search.

* * *

Upon reaching the tower, she noticed that countless bodies of men and women littered the ground, most of them laying in pools of their own dried blood. They were grotesquely disfigured, most missing arms, legs, or occasionally their head, and the flesh had begun to peel away, often revealing the inner anatomy of the corpse. This wasn't looking good. She spied a recently deceased male, clutching a pistol in his cold hands, who lay back side up against a blackened wall.

Betty moved closer to him, examining the wounds that had dealt this man his fate. A bullet through the spine seemed to be the culprit, but the long gashes across his back way have also been to blame. She turned him over, and a feeling of sick terror washed over her. A small patch with the symbol for radioactivity, the same insignia that the Galactic Guardians used, had been sewn to his jacket, and was now spattered with fresh blood.

Suddenly, the head of the corpse burst, and bits of brain matter and skull fragments short out in ever direction. Betty screamed, and whirled around in search of the cause of this. From behind she could see a figure holding some sort of weapon in his hands, pointing it in her direction. A voice cursed, and the click and clack of rifle reloading could be heard. In panic, she dove behind part of a collapsed wall, just as a second shot rang out. Her heartbeat was frantic, pounding at the inside of her ribcage and threatening to break out. She tried to think straight, to get a clear idea of what to do next, but she couldn't seem to focus. All she could think about was the dead, bloodied body that lay beside her.

That gave her an idea...She grabbed the pistol that the dead man clung to, and checked the ammunition. Three rounds. Cocking the weapon, she peeked around the barrier she hid behind, took aim, and pulled the trigger. She heard a thud, and assumed she had taken her enemy down. Coming around, she saw that the soldier had merely taken a glancing blow, and had fallen on his rear. He now took aim with his own gun, and fired off another shot. Betty dodged, and the bullet pinged off the ground beside her. She raised her pistol, this time knocking the rifle from her enemies hands with a single shot.

The warrior let out a scream of pain, clutching his hand as he fell. Betty dropped the gun, and rushed in close. She delivered a quick roundhouse to the side of his face, and he dropped to the earth with a crash. Now, with her enemy unconscious, she picked up his rifle and prepared to end this. She placed her finger over the trigger, and lined up the sights on his head. Her thoughts fluttered back to the corpse who's head and exploded in a spray of gore. She couldn't bear to see something like that again. Betty instead took the man by the wrists, twisted them behind his back, and hefted him to his feet.

She flipped open the communications tool built into her watch (Along with the bio-scanner...Yeah, its a pretty awesome watch) and radioed back to base.

"Enemy neutralized," She gave her new prisoner a forceful shove, "Awaiting transport vessel."

* * *

That night, as Betty was getting into bed for the night, she couldn't help but wonder exactly what her mission had been. All she had been told was that this ship was harboring a vigilante fighter, who threatened the mission of the Galactic Guardians. She had most certainly found him, but why were there so many dead lying about? The Guardians had sent up others before her, that was for sure, and men of higher rank had been found amongst the bodied, so why had they sent her?

Ah well, all would be answered in due time. For now she was just glad to be out of that blood soaked city...

* * *

Unbeknownst to her however, a solitary figure stood across the street from her home. He was short, with pallid skin that seemed almost fluorescent in the dark. Atop his head was a mass of uncombed black hair, which he had cut short so he would not need to care for it as much. His clothing was a dirty brown, stained with stray bits of grass and mud, and covered every inch of his body, save for his face and hands. In his palm was a long pole, topped with an iron spike. It was his spear. He gazed through Betty's window with a pair of bloodshot blue eyes.

Now that his target was asleep, he had his opportunity. He sprinted across the street, coming to the door of the home in a few seconds. His hand grasped the handle, then gave a weak twist. It refused to budge. Apparently this family was not as foolish as he had estimated, as they had actually locked their door. Taking a step back, the thrust his spear through the wooden frame, creating a hole in the barricade. He stuck his hand through the broken boards, and felt about for the latch. Finding it, he unlocked the door and entered the house.

It was stereotypically American inside. The floors were wood, and covered here and there with a rug. A leather couch sat opposite a coffee table, upon which rested several books and other documents. The intruder made no bother with these, but instead ascended the stairs that led to Betty's room. Once inside, he lifted his staff above the sleeping girl, and froze.

He wasn't aware of how young she was, there was no way that she could have been any older than he. She seemed innocent, not the horrid monstrosity he had come to destroy. The soldier swallowed hard, unsure of what to do next. Reluctantly, he lowered his weapon to his side. Instead, he took a hand and placed it in his jacket, bringing it back out with a small pouch. Releasing the drawstring upon it, a torrent of black dust flew from within. As though it had a life of its own, it began to swirl around the room, causing the world around them to fade into obscurity. He began to whisper in some unknown language to the dust, acting like it could understand his words.

"Retsaf, nruter em ot eht ecalp erehw I gnoleb." The words seemed to have no meaning, but the dirt seemed to hear them, and it covered every wall, floorboard, and window blocking out the entire world around them. Finally, everything faded to black, and the warrior, Betty, and the room disappeared.


	2. Devestation

Betty turned over in her sleep. She felt cold, and groped for her blanket. It eluded her grasp, so she figured it must have fallen from the bed. She tried to reach over the edge of her bed, but instead hit her hand on something cold and hard. In fact, she couldn't feel her mattress, or the wooden frame on which she slept. She opened her eyes, and was shocked by what she saw.

It appeared that she was back on the asteroid city, with broken down buildings all around her. Smoke had filled the air, and the sky above had been tainted a dirty yellow. The earth beneath her had been dyed grey with ashes, and no grass or even soil remained. Bits and pieces of buildings littered the area, most of them still smoldering. Glass and metal were scattered amid the ruins, most of them twisted into various malformed variations of their former splendor. Leaden bullet cartridges, emptied of their death inducing tips, rested among the ash that surrounded her.

She nearly screamed, but another realization made her think twice. Little more than ten feet away from her was a man, about her height and build. His skin was pale, and dotted all over with wounds from battle. Around one arm wound a tattoo of snake, poorly crafted and obviously done by hand. He couldn't have been older than her, though his eyes could have fooled any bystander. They may have been blue, but surrounding them was a bloodshot rim, causing them to appear red and damaged. At his feet was a long staff, tipped with a metal spike, his obvious weapon of choice.

He seemed to sense her movement, and turned to face her.

"Skool, ekil er'ouy ekawa." He spoke in the same strange language.

"W-where am I?" Betty pushed herself back, trying to distance herself from her captor.

"Ah, so you speak English." He replied in her native tongue, "That makes things much easier."

"Where am I?" She demanded, rising to her feet and taking a good look at herself. Her pink blouse was gone, replaced instead with an earthy brown tunic that came down to her knees. It was clasped in the center by a black leather belt, that looked like it had been thrown together from the rubble around them. "And where are my clothes?"

"Oh, those? I replaced them."

"You...you took my clothes off?"

"No, I magically levitated them off and put new ones on." He sarcastically replied.

"You pervert!" She dashed forward and lashed out at him with her fists.

He dodged, just barely avoiding her blow, then gave her a shove back to put some distance between them. She grunted, then launched into another attack this time throwing a kick towards his chest. Her foe blocked with his hands, but was unprepared when she followed it up with a second blow. This time her fist managed to nick his shoulder, and he reeled back to avoid a third strike from his enemy. He dove aside, grabbing his pike as he rolled across the ground, then turned and pointed it at his feminine foe. She froze in her tracks, realizing the killing power of that weapon.

"I already spared your life." He said, rising with spear in hand, "Don't make me regret that choice."

"Fine." Betty sighed, backing off, "Can you at least tell me your name?"

"Don't got one." He replied calmly, "Daddy didn't care much for titles, so I never got a name. Most folks around here have taken to calling me Jekyll, though."

"Alright, Jekyll. Where are we?"

"Perhaps you've heard of this world, Htrae."

"Ht...Htrae?" She made a weak attempt at repeating the word.

"That's right. This world is a parallel version of your own Earth."

"An alternate Earth?" Betty paused for a second, trying to wrap her mind around the idea, "How can that be?"

"Have you ever heard of Newtons Laws of physics?" Jekyll replied, taking a seat on a collapsed segment of a wall.

"Of course." She sat down beside him, staring out over the ruins that surrounded them.

"Tell me what the third law is..."

"Third law..." She scanned her memory, "Oh yeah! For every action there is an equal reaction."

"Off by just a bit." He corrected, "An equal AND opposite reaction. This entire world is the opposite reaction of Earth."

"What do you mean?"

"Think of it this way, everything that has ever happened in your world, the exact opposite happens here."

"So, when there was no war on Earth, one broke out here?"

"Not exactly. The reaction only occurs at turning points in history, and one has recently happened in your world. Do you recall being sent to a space colony by the Galactic Guardians?"

"Yeah."

"What did you find there?"

"I-I found a man. I was sent there to capture him."

"Can you tell me what he looked like?"

"He was kinda old, with grey hair and wrinkly skin." She began, trying to recall the man she had fought just a few hours earlier, "He had a white uniform, and he had a little scar just above his left eye."

"I thought so. The man you captured was the leader of the SS." Jekyll stated matter-of-factly.

"SS?" Betty questioned.

"Star Soldiers. They were much like the Galactic Guardians, but unafraid to strike down our enemies." He stopped for a moment, looking at the sun as it passed between layers of smog, then went on, "Here, you didn't capture him. You put a rifle round through his heart. When you killed our leader, there was no one to keep the Guardians in balance. You turned dark, and began to take out other members of the SS. Finally, with nothing to stop you, you became the dictator of this world, all the way up to the present."

"I...I killed them?"

"Every last one. I was sent to your world to kill you, and prevent all this from happening."

She was in shock. This mess, this disaster all around her, it was all her fault. She was the cause of this...albeit an alternate version of her, but still the same person.

Jekyll went on, "I didn't kill you, but I brought you to my own dimension, in hopes that perhaps you could help right these wrongs."

The two of them were silent for a moment, before a scraping noise broke in. The young man strained his ears, trying to pinpoint the location of the sound. He rose from his seat, and picked up his staff. He turned catching a glimpse of movement on his left. He spun around, coming to face with an armor clad soldier. He was bound in long strips of leather, all molded together to form a surprisingly strong suit of armor. On his head was a rounded helmet, with a long chainmail flap to cover his neck. In his hand was a broadsword, coupled with a wood and iron shield.

Jekyll made a thrust with his pike, only to have it deflected by his enemies shield. The soldier returned it with a vicious slash, but his opponent hopped back, the blow narrowly missing his chest. His enemy threw a kick to his chest, knocking him to the ground. As he fell to his back, his foe leapt upon him, bringing the blade back for the finishing blow.

Before that strike came however, Something strange happened to Jekyll. His body began to quiver and convulse, as though he were having some sort of seizure, and his eyes began to glaze over, his vision becoming blurred and dark. The warrior, who had been prepared to take his life, seemed to recognize what was happening, and instinctively began backing off. Before he could escape, the young man's chest had now been torn down the middle, a pale, scale covered hand extending from his heart.

With a deafening roar, a massive beast ripped through his flesh crawling out and after Jekyll's assailant. Its skin was covered in a layer of scales, much like those of a lizard or snake, and its hands ended in long talons. Its maw gaped, exposing a long layer of demonic fangs, each serrated and pointed backwards for gripping meat. It breathed heavily, almost forced, as it scampered across the ruins and tackled the sword-wielder. Before the man had a chance to react, the beast sank it's fangs into the warriors shoulder. The man screamed, frantically beating the creature on the snout, but to no avail. It shook him like a ragdoll, snapping his clavicle in the process. A large chunk of muscle, bone, and flesh was ripped from his body, as the creature wolfed down its meat.

When it had finished its meal, it returned to Jekyll's body, fading back in with the body. The chest wound it had created sewed back up, and the man returned to life with a breathless gasp.

"Nmad!" he exclaimed in his native language, "That was a galactic guardian...or at least the new edition of it."

He turned to his female companion who wore a look of shock and confusion on her face.

"I'm sorry you had to see that." He said with a nonchalant glance.

"What was that...that thing?"

"That is the being called Edyh." He replied, weakly getting to his feet, "I'm a rediskrad."

"Rediskrad?"

"Yes. That...demon you saw is my darkside, a living embodiment of hate, death, and sorrow. For some, the darkside is just a personality, but for a rediskrad, it's a second being." He explained, "It comes out only in times of extreme stress, like you just saw..."

He turned his back to her, picked up is spear, and began to clamor over the rubble.

"Follow me. If one soldier found us here, there are bound to be more."


	3. Unraveling

"Where are we going?" Betty complained, her feet beginning to ache after about an hour of walking.

"Mdynh Alnjs." Her companion replied, plodding the ground ahead of himself with his spear, "The City of the Unclean."

"Sounds Charming." She kicked at a bit of loose rubble.

"Trust me, it's way better than the rest of this waste." He leapt nimbly upon a collapsed pillar, and pointed into the distance, "And there she is."

His finger was aimed squarely at a grouping of white tents and the occasional repaired home. All of them seemed to congregate around a fire pit, which had recently been lit and was now chugging out black smoke in addition to the flame it produced. Groups of men and women, most of whom were clutching various firearms in their hands were spread throughout, conversing with one another. High above each tent flew a flag, dyed black as soot with a single character emblazoned upon it. The number thirty. It obviously held some sort of significance to these people, but whatever its meaning, Betty cared little for it.

Right now, as she strolled into this city, the eyes of strangers scathing her with their glances, she longed for home. She wanted to crawl back into bed and escape this nightmare, reawakening back with her friends and family back on Earth. Perhaps one of the men here would help her, provide her with the same technology that Jekyll had used to kidnap her...

She pushed that thought aside, as she caught a glimpse of the people who looked at her. Their eyes were not filled with hate, nor spite, or any other ill-will towards her. They were filled with fear. She could see their fingers tightening around their firearms, as though clinging to those weapons were their source of life. As they strode towards a still standing segment of a home, Jekyll was frantically speaking to those around them, and though she couldn't understand his words, they were obviously about her. His voice was low, as though he too had some doubts about escorting her, but he pressed on nonetheless. Reaching the curtain of a door that the building bore, he pulled it aside and stepped in, motioning for her to do the same.

Within, there was almost no furniture. In one corner of the room was a half-inflated air mattress, strewn with a few moth eaten blankets for warmth. Beside it lay a rusty assault rifle, settled amid a pile of cartridges and ammunition. Across from that, was a low wooden desk, its varnish faded and the wood losing its stain. It was trimmed in metal, though now it had been oxidized to the point where it blended with the oak boards. Behind the desk was a chair, overstuffed and filled with holes, though it was still in good enough condition to hold up a man.

"Retsam." He said, coming to a stop at the desk, "I gnirb uoy a rotisiv."

"Tahw..." The chair swiveled around, revealing an older man, who's hair had just begun to grey around the edges. His eyes were suddenly wide, as though he had just seen a spirit of the dead. His body was well formed, and obviously accustomed to years of labor, with veins that bulged out at every angle. His clothing was tattered, and smelled of earth and sweat, yet still carried an air of supremacy by the markings of an officer jutting from the sides. He too, seemed to show fear, and looked ready to bolt for the rifle beside his bed. Luckily, Jekyll was there to explain.

"On! Ehs si ton eht ymene." He spoke at a frantic pace, as though his words would not reach the man in time.

"Neht ohw si ehs?" The elder replied, still as tense as ever. Suddenly, a realization hit him. "Si ehs eht eno ew tnes ouy ot llik?"

There was a pause, as the lad searched his mind for a response. He licked his lips as he shot through his options, turning the words over and over in his mind. Finding no alternative, he nodded yes, then hung his head in shame.

Deciding it was perhaps best to change the subject, he hastily tacked on another sentence. "Ehs kaeps English."

The older man rose from his seat, looking her over with a furtive eye. "So, you speak English, sey?"

"Yeah." Betty spoke, a bit hesitant about saying anything further.

"My name is Cobaj, I'm the closest thing this city has to a leader. A bit of a sad thing really." He said, shaking her hand in a businesslike manner. "If you have any questions about this place, then feel free to ask me now."

"I just have one." She said, taking a seat on the mattress, "What happened to this world?"

Cobaj sighed, sitting upon the corner of his desk, then turned to Jekyll. "Teg tuo. Uoy evah enod hguone."

"Sey, retsam." The lad replied, exiting the room.

His gaze fell back to Betty, as he began his tale.

"This all started about ten years back. The Star Soldiers and the Galactic Guardians coexisted peacefully. The peaceful GG kept order, while the SS had the weaponry and guts to back up the order. They canceled each other out, and everything was just fine. Then a time came when the SS began to branch out, often finishing off criminals that their partners let live, and conflict ensued. Nothing major, no war there, but the agents of both organizations began to resent the other, and all too often the resentment ended in bloodshed. In the end, the Guardians clandestine motives won out, and nearly all the SS perished throughout the purge.

That's where you came in. One of the last surviving SS members, had taken up residence on an ancient asteroid city known as Middina, and hunkered down there to fight off any fools who made attempts on his life. He had led the SS for ten years, and wasn't ready to go down without a fight. He constantly fended off the Guardians, leaving their bodies as a warning to all who dared trespass on his turf. Finally, desperate for one who could break his defenses, the GG turned to you. It was a miracle operation, as you managed to slip in under the cover of his radar, and elude the booby traps he had set up among the bodies.

You even bested him in combat, something none of the other guardians thought possible. You wrenched the rifle from his hands, and in the heat of the moment, fired a shot to his chest. It was perfectly placed, and cut right through his heart, killing him instantly. That was the end of the mission. End of story right?

Wrong. You returned, hailed as a great hero for the Galactic Guardians, a protector of peace everywhere. But you didn't feel that way. You were shocked that you had taken a life, and the face of the dying man haunted you everywhere you turned. Not a moment went by that you didn't think about what you could have done differently, how you could have spared him. For months you were miserable, spending most of your waking hours confined to your bedroom, unable to cope with your choice.

Finally, I took it upon myself to cheer you up. The animosity with the Star Soldiers had subsided, and I had been elected as the new leader. I offered to take you up with us, to show you all the things we had to offer, and you snapped it up in a heartbeat. We had set course for a planet known as Nax-Bellus, a life sustaining world with lush forests and sprawling urban landscapes. It had recently become a rogue system, with its denizens stockpiling mass amounts of weaponry, as well as the finances required for long term war. The six of us, not including you, had been dispatched to put a stop to such activities.

I assumed since you had been brooding so much about losing that one man, that letting you aid us in a small skirmish would help to dissipate those feelings. I was dead wrong. The fight was long and hard, with bullets flying, guns roaring, and dismemberment galore. You had locked yourself in the bridge of our ship and refused to fight, but that didn't stop you from seeing what we did. The blood, the agonized wounded screaming on the battlefield, and the rampant destruction only pushed you further and further into your shell, never to come out.

Oh, but we were wrong yet again. You did break out, and in a spectacular form. One day, as our ship was under another attack, an enemy made his way to the bridge. There was no nonviolent solution. You grabbed a knife from my desk and planted the blade in his throat.

From that day on, you were the fiercest warrior I had ever seen, practically leading us all into the battle. You killed without mercy, as though you had lost all sense of regard for life. All those feelings of guilt and regret were gone, and you seemed to be not just adjusting to the battlefield, but flourishing in it. The Bellus were pushed back, and our mission complete.

You had branched back out, but you were different now. You seemed to have an insatiable lust for blood, and war was always on your mind. It had begun to frighten some of the others, and they avoided you for this new attitude. You were excluded, and started to become paranoid about me and the SS.

Finally, the snap came. You criticized us for being murderers, and having no morals. Claims were made that we were created to destroy, and that no good could come from our line of work. It was a moment of insanity, for you yourself were as hungry for death as we were, if not more. We tried to reason with you, but it wasn't possible. You had entered an advanced state of shell shock. A state in which you were locked in a constant strife, causing you to become a warmonger of sorts.

In one swift moment, you slayed three of my men. The rest of us retreated back to our ship, as one more Star Soldier was killed as he attempted to board. Only two of us survived. Myself of course, and Elad."

"What happened to him?" Betty interrupted.

"Elad was a bit of a madman." Cobaj replied, stroking his stubble-ridden chin, "You know those children you hear about, those poor kids who get dropped on their head, and suffer some terrible mental illness as a result?"

"Yeah."

"Elad was too good for that. When he was born, he jumped off the bed."

"What happened to him?"

"Oh he was fine, but after the war he fled into seclusion. He's still out there somewhere, upholding all that the SS stood for." He swallowed, then went on. "But, I digress. As I was saying, we fled the planet, leaving you stranded there.

Oh, you weren't happy about that. Not one bit. You were forced to fend for yourself for three months, foraging for food and water in abandoned cities and charred forests. Somehow, someway, you made it. Eventually, a cargo freighter came to pick at the spoils of war, and you saw that as your ticket home. You gathered up what little armament you had, and stowed away of the cruiser.

It journeyed back to Htrae, where you disembarked. Once you returned to Galactic Guardians, you received a hero's welcome. They had recently lost their leader to cancer, and you were the first pick to replace her. Once in control of the GG, you militarized them. They changed from a peacekeeping organization to a global monitoring facility almost overnight, and within the month, war broke out. The civilians rose up, and clashed with the guardians in the street..."

"What happened next?" Betty was on the edge of her seat, as though this were all some grand movie.

"We lost." The elder sighed, "The war was a spectacular failure, and you managed to conquer us all. Many of the guardians resented the idea of a dominating police force, so you had them assassinated. There was no resistance, and any who opposed you were either killed or enslaved."

"So...all this? Is because of me?"

"Sey. And that's why we had Jekyll sent to your world. We figured that if you didn't exist in your world, maybe you wouldn't no longer plague us here. Luckily for you, he spared your life. Now, you are going to be part of the effort to save our world."

"Me?" The girl was in shock, "But, I don't know anything about guns, or swords, or..."

Cobaj broke in, "But, you can learn. We have a combat training camp for anyone who wishes to learn, and you are going to be put through it."

He rose from the desk, and strode to the door, commenting to the lad on the other side. "Jekyll, emoc kcab ni ereh."

The boy re-entered the chamber, still staring at the floor in shame.

"I tnaw uoy ot teem ruoy wen rentrap ni gniniart."

Though Betty could not understand what they were saying, she was almost sure that her and Jekyll were in for one hell of a training session.


	4. Crafting

Outside the house was the training ground. All it really was, was a field of filthy rubble with a few targets set up for firearm practice. All about the area were the students, clashing weapons together, blasting rounds into paper targets, or wrestling upon the ground. Striding across the field was the apparent leader of the bunch, who wandered about, correcting the young men when wrong, and occasionally breaking up the more brutal fistfights.

His hair was a deep black, matching the ebony tone of his skin. His eyes were green, and luminous in the shaded areas of the field. His clothing, much like all the others, was in shambles, with rips and tears cutting across it at odd angles. At his hip was a short dagger, about seven inches in length, resting in a leather sheath. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Jekyll and Betty making their way towards him.

"I ees Cobaj sah tnes em emos wen stiurcer?" He said, looking the two of them over.

"Yeah...I speak English." Betty attempted to reason with this man.

"He wants to know if you're his new trainee." Jekyll stated, rolling his eyes.

"Oh, right. Well, yes. We are."

"I see." He replied, "Names Ragmahs, and I'll be your personal trainer."

"That's the thing though," She said with a bit of supremacy in her voice, "I've already been trained. The Galactic Guardians taught me about combat, so I really don't need much help."

"Well then." Ragmahs locked eyes with her, as he took a fighting pose, "Let me see what you've got."

"Alright, but don't say I didn't warn you." Betty said as she dashed forth, aiming a swift jab at her enemies forehead. He easily dodged, and slipped past another punch as her assault continued. She struck again, and this time her hand made contact with her foe's forearm. He brushed off the blow, and with a shove, pushed her back and nearly off-balanced her.

She was unphased, and came again, this time throwing a roundhouse to the side of his head. Ragmahs dropped to his knees, and her leg swept just over him. In response, he shot his hand out, and managed to hook her heel, then proceeded to tear it from beneath her. She fell sprawling, as her enemy rose back to his feet.

"Done fooling around?" The black man stated, rising to his feet.

"Oh, I'm just getting warmed up!"

Betty leapt to her feet, and again charged the warrior. Closing the gap between them, she lashed out again and again with both hands and feet. Her attack was easily blocked, or occasionally dodged, and her arm was suddenly grabbed. She felt herself get whipped around, then thrown to the side with little effort. She rolled across the ashes, leaping to her feet as she slowed. This time, Ragmahs went on the attack, tearing the knife from it's sheath, and charging towards her.

He took a short thrust, as the girl leapt to the side, narrowly avoiding the strike. From there, he gave her a sharp elbow to the stomach, knocking her back and doubling her over. Switching the dagger to his other hand, he drew it back and slashed it across her leg, delivering a slight flesh wound where it landed.

He jumped back, as his enemy grabbed for her bleeding leg in pain. He spun the weapon around his fingers, then replaced it in its holster.

"You see, the training the Guardians gave you is common knowledge to the people here." Ragmahs said, as she frantically tried to stop the bleeding on her leg, "You come to me embarrassed and bleeding. But when I'm through with you, you will be as skilled a warrior as I."

Halfway across the world, another group of survivors picked their way through the ruins. One was short, with skin as green as grass, obviously not a resident of Htrae himself. His hair was messy, and dyed a bright, almost neon blue, a sharp contrast to the blacks and greys of the world around him. His clothing had once been a white jumpsuit, but had since become dirty and blotched. Slung over his shoulder was a double barreled shotgun, an old, but still useful weapon in the wastelands.

His partner was a stark contrast to him. He was clad in jeans and a faded black t shirt, covering lightly tanned flesh. His eyes were brown, and covered by a pair of spectacles. His hair was long, past his shoulders, and was a chestnut brown color. Across his back lay a weather-worn guitar, the only object he possessed from before the war began. His instrument was painted black, with a white trim around the base. The neck of the guitar had been chiseled by from aromatic pine, and was crisscrossed by the strings. At his hip was a pistol, its ammunition loaded onto his belt for easy access. At his other hip was a special weapon, a short handled axe, a metal handle giving way to a steel head that branched out in both directions.

The two of them came upon a traveling troop of guardians, all of whom were armed with assault rifles, as they marched through an open ruin.

"Elad." The smaller of the two pointed towards the approaching force, "Shall we engage?"

"Well, lets see." Elad counted them out, "There's two of us, and five of them...I'd say the odds are in our favor. Let's do it, Ykraps"

The two of them split up, taking a position on either side of the road. Elad drew both weapons, and held his breath, not willing to give up his position. On the opposite end, Ykraps cocked his shotgun, and positioned himself atop a pile of rubble, taking aim at the leader of the group. He squeezed the trigger, and let loose with a shot. The leader was dead on contact, and dropped to the ground with a spray of blood. He fired again, disabling the legs of another warrior.

The three able bodies left turned in his direction, and unloaded streams of bullets towards the green one, as he dove behind a manged mass of steel and brick. He attempted to cram two more rounds into his weapon, as the guardians closed in on his position.

A sudden scream pierced the air, as Elad broke from his hiding place, unloading his pistol into the nearest soldier. His enemy fell with no trouble, but his two opponents instinctively turned to him, guns blazing. The spectacle wearer strafed to the side, cramming another clip into his gun. He launched another volley of tracers, this time striking his foe in the chest, and dropping yet another guardian. The third soldier made an attempt to reload, but Elad was to quick. He came in close, pistol whipping him across the face.

The soldier rolled into the ashes, as his enemy struck again, this time bringing his hatchet to bear. The blow struck the man in the jugular, and the guardian died, choking upon his own blood. There was a click and clack of a firearm being reloaded, and Elad spun around to see the crippled fighter drawing his pistol, and taking aim for him. Before the shot came, however, a cloud of buckshot tore through the downed man's flesh, perforating it in nearly every possible place.

Ykraps stepped down from his highground, and smiled as he replaced his weapon. "Well, that was fun, and you did it all without scratching your guitar too."

"You think I'd damage something this nice?" He said, patting the strings, giving them a little pluck. The beat resonated through the ruin, a cold reminder of just how alone they were. He turned to the dead, noticing the expensive weapons they all carried. "C'mon. These guys have ammo and grenades, and we need both of them."

"You got it." The younger warrior said, beginning to pick through their enemies belongings.


	5. Testing

"Strike again." Ragmahs said, standing beside a training gel torso. Betty thrust her dagger into the gut, then quickly removed it. "No. You're stabbing like a girl."

"Well, I wonder why?" She retorted, placing her hands upon her hips. He removed the weapon from her grasp, and took his place in front of the target.

"You need to hit like you mean it." He plunged the blade between the "ribs" of his target, the dragged the blade downward, shattering bone as he tore through them. With seemingly smooth grace, he twisted the dagger out, then slashed it across the dummy's face, leaving a wide gash in its wake. To finish, he planted the knife in the shoulder, thrusting downwards and through the windpipe. "Try like that."

Betty took the knife, and slammed it into the throat of the target. She drew the blade out through the flesh on the left side, leaving the head attached by only half of its support. Betty pulled back, then with a quick, precise hack, drove the blade back into the severed neck, this time cutting it clean through. The gelatin head fell to the floor, rolling across the ground before it came to a stop at Ragmahs feet. But the girl was unrelenting.

She struck again and again. Stabbing and dragging the blade through the beheaded body, inflicting her own form of overkill. Finally, she buried the blade in the the neck of the torso, all the way up to the hilt. There was a flame burning in her eyes as she turned to the master.

"Better?" She raised an eyebrow in question.

"Much. Now when you can do that against a target that strikes back, I'll be impressed."

* * *

Jekyll was currently going through a hell of his own. Spear fighting with a warrior of a much higher caliber than he.

He made a thrusting strike, but it was immediately deflected by his enemy. Before he could make a move, two feet planted themselves in his chest, knocking him to the ground. The Rediskrad managed to roll aside, just as the tip of his opponents spear was embedded in the ash where his chest once was. He swung the shaft of his weapon around, knocking the legs from beneath his foe. Jumping to a standing position, and making an attempt for an attack, only to be tackled by his opposition.

Once on the ground, the two of them lashed out at each other amid the ashes, punching and kicking and scratching each other as they wrestled. Finally coming out on top, Jekyll threw a fist to the face of his enemy, before a sharp kick to the stomach knocked him off. The other warrior made a mad dash across the field, as Jekyll leapt to his feet and chased after him. As he closed the distance, he prepared to leap upon his foe, but stopped short when he caught a glimpse of the other warrior. He had crouched down, and held both pikes out towards him.

There was no denying it. He had been bested. His enemy tossed him his spear, then planted his own in the ashes beside him.

"You're still putting to much force behind your thrusts." The older warrior spoke, striking a fighting pose, "Try again, but this time hit with less force, and better accuracy."

"You at least show some skill with firearms." Ragmahs smiled as his student open fired on a paper target, her bullets sinking into the center of the bullseye, or at least close to it.

"Thanks." She replied, taking aim again and unloading a fresh stream of lead.

* * *

This training went on for about a week, culminating with Betty's rematch with her master. The two of them stood, both unarmed, ready for combat.

This time, she opened the fight differently, rushing in and striking low, towards his knees. He was too quick, and managed to get a lock on her wrist, yanking it towards himself in an attempt to put her in a painful choke hold. She quickly made a sweep with her leg, knocking her enemy from his feet. Now on the ground, she managed to wrench her arm free, then attempted to bring her heel down upon his skull. Ragmahs rolled to the side, avoiding the strike and sending his hand to his hip, where his dagger had been concealed.

He slashed with his blade, almost slitting her stomach as she leapt back. Following close behind was a stab, aimed for her midsection, as she dodged once again. The master struck wildly, as his student put all her training to the test, strafing and ducking as she avoided every blow. Finally, her opportunity to hit back came, as a sloppy downward swing came her way. She gripped his wrist, then spun about, slamming her elbow against his jaw. Before he could recover, she came low, giving him a sharp shove to the gut, putting him off balance and pulled the knife from his hand.

As he staggered back, Ragmahs smiled. He dropped his hands, and took a deep breath. "I've taught you everything I can. Now get out there and use it."

* * *

Back in Cobaj's office, Betty and Jekyll were given their first assignment. They were to head to the nearby village of Mdynh Alrmad, and meet up with the leader Sivolc, where they would aid him in purging a group of occupying Guardians. The two of them set out, each armed with firearms, as well as their melee weapons.

Betty had been given Ragmahs dagger, claiming that, "It had drawn her blood, now she shall use it to spill the same from her enemies." Over her back was slung an old machine gun, its chains of ammunition lashed over her chest. She was ready to put her training to the test. Jekyll too, had taken up a bolt action rifle, accompanying his pike.

Before they left, the elder had a short talk with the Rediskrad. "Ni Mydnh Alrmad, ouy lliw dnif na dlo Erup Seno. Eh thgim eb elba ot pleh ouy htiw ruoy ediskrad."

"Sey Retsam." He replied, giving him a light smile, "I raews I lliw nruter ot ouy a erup nam."


	6. Slave

A days travel came after they had left town. The walk had been silent, with neither of the companions truly in a talkative mood. They had traversed around fourteen miles that day, and had decided to make camp for the night, selecting a flat patch of earth sheltered in the shell of an abandoned house. The night fell quickly, and within minutes Betty was thrown into a darkness like she had never experienced.

The smog stained sky concealed the stars, smiting them beneath a shroud of soot. The moon had managed to pierce the veil, but the light it gave off was dim at best. The only real source of illumination was a small campfire that Jekyll had started with a stack of wood and a small bit of gasoline he found. It was warm, and gave off a sense of comfort in the pitch black wasteland.

Betty had leaned back against the wall, and spoke for the first time that day.

"Jekyll, can I ask you a question?" She half whispered, almost hoping he would not hear her. He did.

"Yes?" He replied, lazily shifting position to face her.

"Do you blame me for what happened here?"

He was silent for a moment, as he tried to think of a reply.

"No. You did the right thing sparing a life in your world, but sometimes, even the right thing can have disastrous consequences." He swallowed hard, then went on. "That consequence tore the world to sheds..."

"What was it like?" She questioned, yawning as she spoke,"I mean, what was this place like before the war?'

The boy smiled weakly, "I can't remember. I was only three when the war broke out. I do remember one thing, though. The night was a lot brighter back then and..."

He cut himself off, as he realized she had fallen asleep.

"Look's like we have company." Ykraps spoke softly as he and Elad entered what appeared to be the burnt out shell of a skyscraper, the mangled ruins twisting above them in a crisscross pattern. Across the plain from them stood two figures, one larger than the other.

The opposing pair came into view. One was a girl apparently in her early twenties, clad in a faded pair of jeans and an old pink T shirt. Her hair was a brilliant red, and was pulled back into a ponytail, keeping most of it out of her face. In her emerald eyes was a passion, as if they were ablaze with a righteous fury. She carried no weapon, save for a long, coiled chain that she carried over her shoulder. Her figure was slim, and fit nicely into her choice of clothing. Had people of these times been seeking love, she would have been considered beautiful.

The one she walked with was very obviously robotic. He floated alongside her on a cushion of air rather than walking. His body was crafted from a copper-colored metal, and had been shaped into a vaguely box-like form. From this centroid sprung his two arms, both merely elongated rectangles with a grasping claw upon the end. His head was yet another box, this one with a wide, sweeping red "eye" that seemed to scan the area ahead of him in a monotonous fashion. Upon his left wrist was a small, V shaped object that seemed to hum as he hovered along.

They stopped dead in their tracks, before the girl spoke up.

"Ykraps, such a pleasure to run into you again out here."

Elad reached for his gun, drawing and cocking it in one swift motion. He took aim and prepared to fire, only to be cut off by a prodding in his back. His eyes turned, and saw a rifle toting Guardian holding the barrel of his weapon against his spine.

"I wouldn't bother trying to kill me." She replied smugly, "By the time you got a round off, I'd have five more in your body."

The spectacle wearer never faltered, though his eyes gave away the fear within. From every corner of this fallen building, a new soldier was emerging, none of them were on his side. Unwilling to give up his only gambling chip, he kept his aim fixed upon the girl, ready to fire at any moment.

"Ytteb." The green skinned lad spoke calmly, locking eyes with her. "So, you've finally come out of that prison camp you call home."

"Oh, I've been out alright. But I ran into a bit of a problem."

"What kind?"

"Technical difficulties. You were always good with that sort of thing."

Elad broke into their conversation, "And you think you can merely waltz in, apologize for what you've done, and get us to fix all your issues?"

"Wrong." Ytteb gave him that same cocky grin, "I'm going to waltz in, take him, and kill you."

With those words, she hurled the chain she carried at Ykraps, the links wrapping around and ensnaring his limbs before he could make a move. He fell to the ground, trying to pull off the steel shackles, but to no avail, as the female warrior took hold of the chain, dragging him along towards herself. Without word, she began to stalk off, her metallic companion leading the way.

There was a moment of silence, as Elad lowered his pistol, replacing it in the holster at his hip. In a split second, he tore the hatchet from its sheath, whirled about, and slit the belly of his captor. The soldier fell to the earth in a pool of his own blood and entrails. His rifle was wrenched from his grasp, and fired at another nearby soldier. His target fell, just as the other Guardians opened up on him in a flurry of lead. Elad dashed off, rounds blasting the ashes around him as he sought cover.

Finding it in a rusted metal slab, he hid himself behind it. As the warriors around him came closer, he peered around, taking another shot with his captured rifle. Another soldier fell, and another volley was launched from his foes, as he dove behind his cover once more.

"X-5." Ytteb spoke to her partner, "Code Gnas. Enter assault mode."

"Gnas." The robot repeated. "Code accepted. Assault mode entered."

The being raised its arm, the V shaped box producing a bright pulse of light in the direction of Elad's cover. The beam tore straight through the metal, leaving their foe exposed. He launched a bullet towards the bot, catching it in the chest. The round merely shattered against the breastplate, and the ironclad returned fire with another blast from it's wrist. Elad managed to avoid the passing burst, dropping the now empty rifle and drawing his handgun. Immediately he began to unload ammunition into his foe, but X-5's heavy armor deflected the blows.

The two of them strafed each other, firing shot after shot, yet neither being able to damage the other, as Ytteb began to drag her ensnared prey away from the battlefield. Her Guardians. At least the ones who remained, began to fall back, ready to defend their mistress.

Elad realized he could not hold out against his opponent. The laser weapons he was up against were far more advanced than anything he had in his arsenal. He would have to use his wits. From his belt, he removed a hand grenade, and pulled the pin in a split second. Instead of throwing it, he held on and charged towards X-5, who merely lifted his hand to fire again. A blast of light hurtled out, but by the time he got that shot off, his enemy had dove beneath it, leaving his grenade as he began to sprint off and away from the battle. The robot turned, and prepared another blast, but was cut short as an explosion ripped through his underside, nearly tearing through his steel hull.

The man drew one final grenade, and hurled it into the shaky metal bars above. The device detonated, shattering the ceiling and bringing the full weight of it crashing down upon his enemy. Now, with a distraction in place, he took of in the direction that Ykraps had been taken, ascending the slight ridge that separated him from the rest of his enemies forces.

As Elad climbed above the ridge, however, he could see Ytteb loading his partner into the back of a pickup truck, and speeding off. She had come prepared. There was no way he could keep up with an automobile. Ykraps was gone, and now he was completely alone in the endless ash of the wastes.


	7. Ashes

Betty awoke the next morning with a pain in her spine. Although she wished to stay in bed, the stiffness of her back caused her to sit up straight. The fire had burned down into charred coals, practically blending in with the ash covered earth. She looked around for Jekyll, but saw him nowhere.

Finally, she spotted him, seeing the boy hunched over before a much larger being. Edyh. She ducked behind a collapsed pile of brick, and listened in on their conversation.

"It's been almost two weeks Jekyll. I'm starving." The beast spoke in hoarse tones.

"I know. I know, but there hasn't been anything for you to feed on. We've been among friends." The boy replied.

"What about the girl?"

Betty's blood ran cold at the sound of those words. She wanted to run. She wanted to scream. But her instincts kept her from acting. Instead, she stayed put, and trained her ears to listen again.

"Do you realize who she is?" Jekyll stated, his voice sounding much weaker than it normally did.

"I don't care who she is. She's made of meat, and I'm starving." The demon moved closer to him, breathing heavily.

"Edyh, you can't eat her!"

"And yet, you're the only one stopping me."

"But you need a host body." Jekyll replied. The look in the beasts eyes told him he had struck a nerve, and it turned on him in an instant. It's clawed hand shot out, scooping him up off his feet, then hurled him against a crumbling wall. The creature dove for him, pinning him to the barricade with its haunches.

"A host body that I may devour if I choose." Edyh spat, its fangs mere inches from the boy's face, "You seem to forget that I chose you as my host, not the other way around."

It shoved him to the ground, as a strange transformation came over the beast. His arms faded into his sides, and his legs appeared to connect, lacing one into the other in a single long limb. His head began to shrink and flatten out, becoming little more than a diamond shaped knob on the end of a long, slender body. His form had slimmed down, and it slowly became more apparent what this transformation had brought. The massive demon hand become a snake.

He slithered over the ground, passing Jekyll's ear with a hissing whisper, "Two days. If there is no food for me by then, the the girl is as good as gone."

Betty scanned the boy's arm, and noticed that his signature tattoo of the same beast had disappeared. It was suddenly apparent that the two were connected. Her eyes widened in terror as Edyh began to coil himself around the child's arm, his scaled head burrowing into the flesh. The long, twisted body was close behind, and was dragged beneath the skin.

The tattoo reappeared, and Jekyll rose to his feet, striding over to where Betty lay hidden.

"Let's get moving." He said with a calm voice, as he picked up his spear and rifle, "We have two days."

After a second day of travel, they had reached what appeared to be an old ghost town. The building were smoldering, much like the rest of this world, yet several of the houses showed signs of reconstruction. In fact, the place had very few of the "tent homes" she had seen in Mdynh Alnjs, but instead was composed of partially broken down houses, fixed up with some metal siding or hastily tacked on planks of wood.

They entered the city, and Jekyll was quick to seek out the leader. He found the man nailing an old board into place against his home, and he quickly dropped his tools and turned to the boy.

"Jekyll? Tahw era uoy gniod ereh?" He stated, wiping some sweat from his brow, "I t'nevah nees uoy ecnis yeht tnes uoy ffo ot Earth."

"Thgir." Jekyll bluntly replied, "I draeh uoy erew gnivah emos smelborp htiw Snaidraug."

"Sey. Yeht delf otni eht sniatnuom, tub ll'yeht eb kcab..."

"Uh, guys?" Betty suddenly interrupted them, "English please?"

"My apologies." The older man said, "My name is Neimad, and you are?"

"Betty."

"So, Cobaj sent you two to help us out?" Neimad questioned, "No offense, but you don't look like much."

"Hey, I might not look it, but I'm a Galactic Guardian elite!" Betty retorted, "I know what I'm doing here."

"We'll see tomorrow, when they return for another raid."

"If you really want to win, you've got to take the fight to your enemy." Betty cut him off, "Point me to their camp, and they'll all be dead by sunrise."

Niemad seemed impressed, "I admire your enthusiasm, but I think you could use a few extra men on your side. Come, follow me."

He took them aside, and into a nearby tent. Inside was a veritable army of men, all stationed at what seemed to be training posts. Some were firing rifles down a range, two others were engaged in a knife fight. The ground was littered with empty cartridges, and the air was stale with the scent of gunpowder.

"This is the village guard." Niemad said, "I trained them all myself."

"There's five of them." Jekyll replied.

"There were twelve. But each attack kills off more and more."

"Like I said. Point me to their camp." Betty reiterated, looking more than a bit annoyed.

"Since you're so eager, you can go tonight." Niemad replied, placing a hand on her shoulder, "My men will escort you the whole way."


End file.
